Harry Potter: The Dark Heir
by teknikalitiez
Summary: Harry Potter has a dark aura. His twin sister, Rose, does not. Therefore, Harry is shunned and ignored by his parents and everyone except a select few. Voldemort finds him one day by chance and takes him in as his Dark Heir. AU, Dark Harry.
1. A Birthday Party

A/N: Gasp! A new story! Don't kill me! Please! (And don't flame, because I'm twelve.)

Warning: Lily and James may seem a bit OOC because we all know they would never shun a son of theirs. Even if his aura was dark.

Disclaimer: The only things I own of Harry Potter are the books.

**Chapter One**

"Happy birthday, Rosie!"

A six-inch tall white birthday cake with pink frosting sat with at least twenty colorfully wrapped presents on a wooden table that was groaning with its weight. A magical camera flashed and a small, black-haired girl grinned toothily.

"It's your fifth birthday, Rosie!" Lily Evans Potter, a tall woman with long red hair and bright green eyes exclaimed. "You're growing up into a big girl now!"

"That's my girl," James Potter agreed, taking another picture.

"Here's a present from Mommy!" Lily added, taking the biggest parcel from the top of the pile of presents on the table, which was wrapped in red and gold paper. "I'm sure you'll love it."

Rosie squealed happily and tore the wrapping off the paper. It was a huge book with colorful pictures in it.

"Thank you!" she cried. "I love you, Mommy!"

"I love you too, darling," Lily replied fondly.

All the guests standing nearby watching smiled at this joyful mother-daughter exchange.

If you looked at this picture, you would think of a loving family celebrating their five-year-old daughter's birthday. You would probably think that the parents were very kind and nice and loved their only daughter.

But this was not the case. Because the Potters had another child.

Yes, another child.

Where was this child?, you might ask.

His name was Harry James Potter, and he was Rose's twin, and older by ten minutes. (Everyone called her Rosie, but her real name was Rose: Rose Lily Potter.)

Harry was sitting up in his bedroom, staring out the window. It was his sister Rose's birthday today, and she was downstairs receiving presents and having a party with their parents and their parents' friends.

It was his birthday too, but no one had bothered to wish him a happy birthday in his family. The only people who had said "Happy Birthday" to him were Remus Lupin and Albus Dumbledore.

Remus—or Uncle Moony—had even gotten Harry a gift. Harry, who had taught himself to read at the age of four, just one year ago, loved reading, and he had received a book from his Uncle Moony. It was a Muggle book, but Harry loved it, and he had already read it two times.

Harry had decided to come back up to his room when it became clear that no one else was going to wish him a happy birthday or give him a present. So he was reading his favorite (and only) book for the third time now.

_No one loves me,_ Harry thought sadly. _No one._ It was true. They all loved Rose and spoiled her rotten. They just mostly ignored Harry. Except his Uncle Moony. And occasionally the tall man with the long white beard and half-moon glasses with a crooked nose.

It really wasn't his fault. He hadn't asked for it.

_Flashback_

_"What the hell was that?" Lily screamed, still frightened. Lily Evans Potter did not swear much usually, so whatever that had happened must have been really frightening for her._

_"It… it felt like darkness… like a dementor, only different," James whispered, shivering._

_"Oh my goodness! Rosie! Harry! Are you two all right?" Lily breathed, noticing that her two-year-old children were in the room with her at that very moment._

_Rosie whimpered softly. "Cold…" was all she could manage out._

_But Harry looked fine. He looked up at her with a puzzled expression on his face._

_Dumbledore, who had just stepped into the room at Godric's Hollow, felt it too. He stared at Harry; then he suddenly whipped out his wand and shouted out a spell._

_The brilliant emerald green light hit Harry in the back._

_"What are you doing, Albus?" Lily cried. _

_It was not the Killing Curse, however. The jet of green light enveloped Harry and suddenly glowed black._

_James paled. He was an Auror; he knew what that meant._

_Dumbledore waved his wand again and the glow disappeared. His face was ashen. "I'm afraid Harry is Dark."_

_It took a moment for the words to sink in for Lily. "No!" she cried out. "No! My child is NOT dark!"_

_"I'm afraid he is," Dumbledore sighed. _

_Lily shook her head again. "No…" she whispered._

_"Yes." James spoke up. "I'm an Auror. I know what that means."_

_"That's impossible!" Lily shouted._

_"It IS possible. Unfortunately."_

_"And what about Rosie?" Lily whispered._

_Dumbledore did the spell again. The light that glowed around Rosie was beige._

_"She's normal."_

_"How can Harry be dark?" Lily cried out. "How?"_

_"He was born with it," Dumbledore answered sadly._

_"So that cold feeling we felt… that was like a dementor… that was Harry?" Lily questioned._

_Dumbledore sighed for what had to be the billionth time (OK, that was an exaggeration) in ten minutes. "Yes."_

_"I can't believe it!" James shouted. "How can a son of mine be dark? I just don't believe it!"_

_Lily chewed on her lip thoughtfully; then she looked at Harry, who flashed a brilliant smile at her._

_"Harry, you're dark," she said out loud, to see what it sounded like. "And I'm afraid we can't take care of a dark child."_

_The words didn't sound right, coming from her mouth._

_No. They really didn't._

_End flashback_

Harry still didn't get it. It wasn't _his _fault that sometimes he could make everyone feel cold and shivery and all that. He didn't even know _how _he did it. All he knew was that he could do it. And that he couldn't control it.

Harry sighed to himself and looked back at the words of his book, but somehow, he wasn't taking them in.

He finally put down his book and pulled out a quill and a piece of parchment from the desk in his room. _Gone to take a walk. Will be back soon. –Harry _He seriously doubted anyone would come looking for him, but it was best to make sure, just in case.

Harry pulled on a cloak, fumbling with it. Rose was the one with the attention and the help, and he was just the quiet child from the outside, looking in.

He opened the door to his room and crept down the stairs. The sounds of Rosie's party became louder.

It hurt to know that his parents didn't love him. It really hurt.

Harry crept out of the back door and into the woods behind the house. He really needed a nice long walk and some fresh air.

( - )

Lord Voldemort, formerly known as Tom Marvolo Riddle, was not having a good day.

All his Death Eaters were pathetic, incompetent fools. The truly loyal ones, such as Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange and Barty Crouch Jr., had not contacted him today yet.

Voldemort sighed to himself. Of course, he only did this when no one was around. Nagini, his snake familiar, was the only exception.

He really needed to go out and torture some Muggles. That would probably be the best way to maintain his sanity, he decided.

The Potters were having a party. Voldemort sneered at the thought. The Potters, who had defied him three times and lived to tell the tale. The Potters, who were currently safe in their home, where Voldemort had no chance of reaching them.

The little rat, his only spy besides Severus Snape, was dead—he had been discovered by his friends to be a traitor and had been killed in an attack.

Voldemort made a decision. He stood up and left the room.

_"Massssster," _Nagini hissed, trailing along behind him. _"Massssster, I shall come with you."_

He liked the cobra, really, but sometimes she was just too damn annoying and persistent.

_"Yess, of course," _Voldemort hissed back.

Hey, who said he would make her stay where she was?

Voldemort left and Apparated to a spot by the woods. He didn't really know where he was—he had just Apparated to some spot and decided he would kill the first living creature he could find.

Just then he heard footsteps.

Voldemort hid in the shadows, waiting to see who it was. He nearly cackled with glee when he saw the mop of messy black hair and green eyes.

James Potter's son.

James bloody Potter had twin children, a boy and a girl. This was, without a doubt, the boy, if the uncanny resemblances were anything to go by.

The foolish boy was walking in a dejected manner, staring at the ground.

Voldemort sneered and stepped out of the shadows.

To say the boy was startled would have been the understatement of the century. "Who are you?" he asked fearfully.

So, Voldemort realized with surprise. The boy didn't even know who the Dark Lord was. Yet he was the son of the Auror who had met and defied the Dark Lord three times.

_"I am Lord Voldemort, and I will kill you," _he hissed in Parseltongue.

Now, Voldemort had come to kill some Muggles. He hadn't expected anything else. So to say he was shocked when the boy hissed back at him in the tongue of the snakes was also an understatement of the century.

Hey, today was probably the day for ultimate understatements or something.

_"You! I've heard my parents talking about you—you're supposed to be evil!" _the boy cried out.

Voldemort reeled in shock. And this was a big thing, too, because one of the requirements of being a dark lord was to _never _reel in shock at anything. _Ever._

_"Masssster! He ssspeaksss! He ssspeaksss the noble tongue of the ssssnakesss!" _Nagini had apparently decided to state—er, hiss—the obvious.

_"Yes, Nagini, I realized that," _Voldemort replied dryly, still in Parseltongue.

Now the Potter boy looked confused.

_"What do you mean, the noble tongue of the snakes? I'm speaking English!" _the boy exclaimed, looking confused.

Voldemort wanted to smack the insolent child. He didn't even know he was speaking Parseltongue. He decided to change gears (Muggle saying—hey, he had grown up with Muggles, right?).

_"Tell me, boy, are you Potter's son?"_

The boy looked surprised. _"How did you know that?"_

Ah… _Now _he was getting somewhere.

_"It's quite obvious, child. You look just like him. What are you doing here?"_

The boy seemed to contemplate this question before finally answering. _"It's Rose's birthday, and I got bored because I had nothing to do, so I came to take a walk."_

Voldemort was a bit confused, and he probably would have Avada'd the stupid boy on the spot for causing his confusion if it weren't for the fact that this boy seemed to also speak Parseltongue.

_"Aren't you twins?"_

_"Yes. How did you know that?"_

Hmm… this could be used to his advantage…

_"Why aren't you celebrating your birthday?"_

The Potter boy kicked some leaves with his sneaker (I'm American, people—do they call them trainers in England?), looking bitter. _"They don't like me. They all ignore me. The only person who gave me a present was Uncle Moony."_

Uncle Moony… Pettigrew had told him about that. The Marauders, were they not? Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs… Moony was the werewolf.

Ah, yes, the werewolf. It was a shame, really, how someone like that could not be swayed to the Dark side.

Wait… Voldemort was getting off topic here! He returned to the subject at hand—the apparent Parselmouth son of James bloody Potter.

_"Well, that won't do. Let me tell you, boy, did you know that you are speaking Parseltongue?"_

_"Parseltongue? What's that?" _came the boy's nonplussed response.

Dear old Voldie really wanted to kick the boy. Or at least Crucio him.

_"It is the language of the snakes. Tell me, Harry Potter—"_

He never got to finish his sentence.

_"How did you know that's my name?!" _the boy demanded.

If it weren't for the fact that he was above such silly things, Voldemort would have rolled his eyes.

_"I just do. Now tell me, Harry Potter, do you really have any desire to go back to that place that you call home?"_

The boy shuffled his feett, his hands stuck in the pockets of his robes. _"Not really."_

Voldemort eyed him. The boy was powerful—he could tell that. But just how powerful, exactly?

He raised his hand and cast a spell at the boy. The boy jumped, startled, but couldn't dodge the jet of emerald green light sent at him.

Voldemort stared in shock as the light hit the boy and he glowed black. Honestly, today must have been a day for breaking rules set for dark lords or something, because really, dark lords did not _stare in shock_.

Dark. Pure darkness. James Potter's son was dark.

Oh yes… this _really_ could be used to his advantage…

"Harry," he began, using English for the first time in their little exchange.

Harry blinked. "Yes?"

"Would you like to come with me?"

Instinctively, the boy backed up. "Y-You're supposed to be evil…" he stammered out. "I…"

Voldemort sighed… again. (Honestly, what was UP with this dark lord rule-breaking stuff?!) "I'm not evil, I'm dark. And so are you."

Harry Potter blinked. "But…"

"Come with me. I won't hurt you, just _come_!"

The boy hesitated, and came a bit closer. That was all Voldemort needed. He grasped the boy's arm and Disapparated with Nagini, all thoughts of torturing and killing Muggles forgotten.

( - )

It wasn't until the party was over when Remus decided to check back up on Harry.

Harry Potter. Remus knew the boy was dark—he could smell it in his aura (after all, he was a werewolf, and had a very good sense of smell). However, he knew the boy was simply that: a boy, a boy who had been born the way he was, not because he wanted to: it had just happened to him, like Remus's lycanthropy issue.

And he was being shunned for it.

Remus sighed and went to Harry's room and knocked on the door.

He waited.

No answer.

He tried again.

Still no answer.

Remus finally decided to push open the door and look in.

There was no one in there. The sheets on Harry's bed were rumpled, like he had been sitting there, and the book Remus had given to him today was open.

Then Remus noticed the piece of parchment on the desk.

On it, in messy scrawl, it read: _Gone to take a walk. Will be back soon. –Harry_

So Harry could write. Rosie, on the other hand, had a hard time reading a simple sentence such as _Casey took Spot the dog for a walk._

Remus decided to visit his friends, the Potters, again the next day. He left Harry's room, closing the door behind him, and went back downstairs to say good-bye to James, Lily, and Rosie, and to Floo back to his own house.

The next day, when Remus went to visit the Potters again, Harry was still missing.

A/N: Please, please review!!! I want to know what you think. Oh, and I know Harry wasn't hit by a Killing Curse so he couldn't have gained Voldemort's ability to speak Parseltongue and he doesn't have the lightning bolt scar on his forehead. But hey, he has a dark aura, remember? So I'm saying he can speak Parseltongue. So sue me.

Please review or I won't update!

–WeRtheWinx


	2. Riddle Manor

A/N: Oh my god. Seventeen reviews? Are you kidding?

I have NEVER gotten that many reviews on a chapter before. EVER.

I know. Sad, isn't it?

I couldn't put this story on hold or discontinue it if so many people like it, now can I?

C'mon. Even I'M not that cruel.

So without further ado, I present to you: Chapter Two!

**Chapter Two**

"Where's Harry?" Remus demanded… perhaps a bit too aggressively.

"Harry?" Lily asked, an unasked question in her eyes. James, on the other hand, shrugged.

"Probably still upstairs in his room sulking," James commented. "He's probably just bitter Rosie got so many presents and he didn't get any."

Remus frowned. "First off, _I _gave him a present," he snapped at his friend and fellow Marauder. "Second, it was Harry's birthday yesterday too. And third of all, I've already checked his bedroom. He's not there."

"Oh." James waved a hand dismissively. "Then he may be taking a walk outdoors or something. Who knows with that kid? He's always so quiet and withdrawn. I have no idea what goes on in his head."

Remus gritted his teeth. "James, _that kid _is your son."

"No, really? I hadn't noticed," James replied sarcastically. "Of course I know he's my kid."

"What about your _son_? Is he your son?"

"Son, kid… what's the difference?"

Remus chose not to dignify that question with an answer. Instead, he tried a different approach. "Well, son or kid, you should be worried about him. If Rosie disappeared, would you automatically assume she was out taking a walk?"

"No, because Rosie doesn't like taking walks outside without an adult to supervise," James responded automatically.

"That's not what I meant, and you know it," Remus retorted, frustrated.

"Remus, James… drop it," Lily interrupted. "Arguing isn't going to help find Harry."

"C'mon, he must be taking a walk!" James cajoled. "I told you, he'll be back soon."

"You don't know that for sure," Remus argued back.

"Look," Lily cut in. "Let's not worry right now. If Harry isn't back by the end of the day, we'll search for him."

Remus did not find this very reassuring, but seeing as it was two against one, he relented.

"All right then."

By the end of the week, Harry Potter was officially declared missing by the Ministry of Magic.

( - )

Harry Potter, however, knew perfectly well where he was. Well, he didn't know _exactly _where it was… but he knew what the place looked like.

It was an old, rather run-down mansion. The floorboards creaked, the shutters were rusty, and the paint on them was peeling. Basically, it fitted the description of a haunted mansion.

Harry looked around, slightly frightened. He had never seen a place as dark and foreboding as this mansion before.

The person—Lord Voldemort—who had taken him away from the forest and his home… no, not home, _house_… was not frightened in the least. (But then again, nothing ever frightened the Dark Lord.)

"Come along now," Voldemort ordered, grabbing Harry rather roughly by one arm and leading him into the mansion.

Harry gaped around at everything. It looked so… _old_. Cobwebs were hanging off the ceiling rafters, and the floorboards creaked and groaned with every step he took.

"Stop staring and walk," Voldemort snapped, not sounding _too _annoyed.

Harry obliged, wondering what was going to happen to him. He had heard stories about Lord Voldemort—how he was an evil person who went around killing and torturing innocent people. But this man with the red eyes didn't seem evil. He just seemed like a rather impatient person who owned a snake, and had heard of Harry Potter.

Well, OK, he had threatened to kill Harry at the beginning of their little conversation in the woods. And he had thrown some weird spell at him that made him glow black. But still, he hadn't seemed _that _bad.

"Stay here for a moment," Voldemort told Harry, and left the room.

Harry blinked and looked up with a start, just to realize that Voldemort had just left him… somewhere. In a room. It was a room that looked just as old and abandoned as the rest of the house, but it was an improvement, when you considered the high-backed, ornate chairs, cabinets full of… things that Harry didn't know of, and the crackling fire in the fireplace.

Harry didn't know just how long he stood there, until Voldemort swept back into the room.

"Well?" he demanded. "Why aren't you sitting?"

"Er… I didn't know I was supposed to," Harry muttered. "Wouldn't I have to ask for permission or something?"

"Of course not, you stupid brat," Voldemort retorted. "This is your home now."

Harry gaped at him.

"No, it's not!" he sputtered. "You… why did you kidnap me?"

Voldemort waited patiently (or as patiently as a sadistic Dark Lord who like torturing and killing people for fun could wait) until Harry finally fell silent.

"I thought you said you didn't like your home," Voldemort said.

There was a pause.

"Well… I don't," Harry admitted.

"So why not stay here?"

There was another pause before Harry finally spoke again. "You're supposed to be evil…" he tried to explain.

"And who told you that?" Voldemort asked. "Your _parents_?"

Harry dejectedly shuffled a sneaker (or trainer… c'mon, people, tell me! Is it trainers or sneakers???) and shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah."

"So if they don't seem to like you, why do you think they would bother to tell you the truth?"

"That's true," Harry said slowly, as if he were contemplating the idea.

"Yes. So you are going to live here now. Are you fine with that?" As if he disagreed, Voldemort would do otherwise, anyway.

"Yes," Harry agreed slowly. "Yes, I am."

"All right. First of all." (A/N: OK, that doesn't sound like Voldemort… I'm not good at Voldemort characterization.) "You are very powerful. Did you know that?"

"Er… no…"

"Well, you are."

"Er… how powerful?"

"Perhaps almost as powerful as that old fool Dumbledore."

"Dumbledore?" Harry asked, his eyes wide.

"Yes, Albus Dumbledore. Living with those two"—here Voldemort called Harry's parents something rather uncomplimentary— "Lily and James Potter, you must have met him sometime."

"Er… yeah, I did," Harry confessed. "Isn't he old, with a long white beard, and he has glasses?"

Voldemort's lip curled in disdain, a twisted sneer on his face that was so reminiscent of Lucius Malfoy that it was just _scary_.

"Yes, he is," he said with distaste.

"He seemed nice," Harry offered weakly.

Voldemort chose not to dignify that comment with an answer.

"All right," Voldemort said, ignoring the comment Harry had just made. "Since you are very powerful, and you are going to be living in this house, you will be my heir."

There was a silence.

"Er… heir?"

"Yes, heir," Voldemort snapped, tired of having to explain everything to this impertinent brat. "That means I will train you."

"Er… right. OK."

( - )

"Parry, you stupid boy! Parry!"

It was the first full day Harry was staying at in the mansion with Voldemort. (A/N: Virtual cookies to anyone who can guess what exactly this mansion is, and where!) And Voldemort was trying to teach Harry to use a sword.

"Why a sword?" Harry couldn't help whining. "Why not magic first?"

"Because I say so," Voldemort had ground out. "You are my heir, and you shall do as I say!" He ignored the fact that the retort "Because I say so" was rather childish, and very un-Voldemort-like.

Now Harry was wielding a rather large, heavy, deadly-looking silver sword… a sword that didn't seem to like him much, if the way it was refusing to cooperate in Harry's hands had any say in the matter.

"Lunge!" Voldemort barked. "Lunge! Now _parry_!"

"I'm trying!" Harry shot back.

If anyone but the Dark Lord's heir had dared to speak to him like that, Voldemort would have killed him or her on the spot. But seeing as it wouldn't be wise to kill his heir on their first day of training, Voldemort gritted his teeth and decided to bear it… for now, anyway. Once the stupid Potter boy… no, not the stupid Potter boy, his _heir_, had spent more time with Voldemort, Voldemort would become harsher and stricter and not let him get away with whining and talking back all the time.

One day with Harry James Potter and Lord Voldemort was already beginning to grow tired of him. How would he ever survive all the years that were sure to come with training the boy?

But then again, Harry was probably the only other Parselmouth, besides Voldemort himself. It wouldn't really do any good to kill him. The only other way to transfer the ability of Parseltongue to someone else would be to use a blood ritual. And not only would that take a long time, but it would also be immensely painful for the boy. Not that Voldemort cared how the boy felt, of course.

Then Voldemort came up with a good solution. After perhaps a few months or so, he could get one of his Death Eaters to train the boy! Probably someone in his Inner Circle…

Bellatrix Lestrange was out of the question. She would probably kill the boy five minutes into the lesson.

Lucius Malfoy was not a good idea either. He was very rich and aristocratic, and could probably use a sword well, as well as being a fine potions-brewer, but his over-inflated ego would get in the way of the training.

Severus Snape? Hmm… He had gone over to the Light Side (as in Dumbledore's pathetic band of merry men also known as the Order of the Phoenix) to spy for the Dark Lord. Severus currently held the position of Potions Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and despite being a halfblood, he was meticulously precise and skilled in the fine art of potions-brewing.

Yes, Voldemort decided. Severus Snape would help him train the boy.

He just hoped Severus wouldn't actually _recognize _the brat as a Potter…

A/N: Well, there's the second chapter! A bit shorter than the first, but OK nonetheless. I hope so, anyway. It's a bit rushed… in fact, I think the events are happening way too fast, but I haven't really read many other Dark Harry fanfics, so I wouldn't know what other Dark Harry fanfics are like. And I don't want to read one right now, because they're all so much better than mine, and then whenever I try to think up ideas, whatever it is that happened in a good Dark Harry fanfic I read will pop up in my mind, and I will never get good ideas in. So, sorry for the rush, and please review!

–WeRtheWinx


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